


Strength Over Fear

by wolfiefics



Series: The Ashante Vende Stories [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 02:36:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21154190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: Ashanti comes to grip with being alone with Qui-Gon's death.





	Strength Over Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Written well before the rest of the prequels were finished.

The fire crackled and sputtered around Qui-Gon Jinn’s body and the large group of mourners stood within the round room reserved for a somber good-bye to a loyal friend and fierce warrior. Jedi of all sorts gathered, many of them masters in their own right, and all twelve of the Jedi Council were present in honor of the loss of a great Jedi. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon’s former padawan and now a knight in his own right upon his master’s death, stood with the hood of his cloak pulled low over his face, blocking the intense grief from on-lookers. Beside him was a small boy, around nine years of age, rumored to have been Qui-Gon’s next chosen padawan and now Kenobi’s own apprentice.

Perched on the railing of one of the open window columns was another knight, hood also pulled low over her face, hiding the tears coursing down her face from those around her. Very few could sense her intense mourning but all the Jedi knew who she was and why she came to bid farewell to Qui-Gon Jinn.

She was Master Ashanti Vende and she had trained Qui-Gon Jinn as her own padawan learner.

The fire continued to burn brightly, slowly eating away at Qui-Gon’s human form. His spirit, his soul, had already become one with the Force days before at the hands of a Sith lord, but it brought no comfort to Ashanti. Humans died earlier than her species, the Titainiens of Maagalon, but this death she could not accept.

He had been her son, though not of her blood. She had cared for his welfare almost since the day of his birth, promising his dying parents that he would be cared for and would be granted the life of a Jedi, as they hoped. So to the Temple she brought him as a babe, sweet-talked the Council into letting the baby remain at such an unusually young age, and eventually took him as her padawan learner. Through times of hardship, argument, tears, sweat, and consternation, he was more than her padawan, a fellow master and knight; he was her son and now he was lost.

She looked at Obi-Wan Kenobi.

She had met the boy several times before, but had never gotten to know him as she wanted to. Perhaps now was the opportunity? She berated herself for being a fool. Kenobi had been Qui-Gon’s third padawan, an accomplishment for a human. Three was usually more than one human master could handle in a lifetime, and humans had such small lifetimes.

The debacle with Xanatos, Qui-Gon’s second apprentice, had almost killed Qui-Gon in his heart, but Kenobi had given him renewed spirit and life. Ashanti owed Kenobi much for that.

She sat in silence, listening to conversations here and there of remembered stories of Qui-Gon’s deeds over the course of his almost sixty years of life. Master Yoda and Master Mace Windu had discussed briefly the Sith lord whom Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had battled and Obi-Wan had destroyed. The Sith lord’s name was still unknown, not that it really mattered, but it would have been interesting to note in the history books.

Darkness began to encroach upon the assembled group as the fire that consumed Qui-Gon began to die away. Not much was left of the knight: some bones that had not burned, ashes of what had, scraps of clothing and leather from various parts of his tunic. The scent of burning flesh was fading away and soon the gathered mourners faded away as well. There was a celebration to begin, after all, of Naboo’s triumph over the Trade Federation’s droid army, and the Sith, and the unity of two peoples long separated. Qui-Gon was a casualty of war, not forgotten, but definitely gone.

Life went on.

Ashanti hated it when life went on without her permission, but there was little she could do about it.

She stayed longer than the rest, with a few other knights who had also been close to Qui-Gon. Plo Koth, who had fought at Qui-Gon’s side during the Hyperspace Wars, stayed, as did Obi-Wan Kenobi; the boy who stood sadly next to the young knight and whose name Ashanti still did not know; Clea Tari, Qui-Gon’s first apprentice; Master Yoda; and Fleph Kewic, a friend of Qui-Gon’s since their days as students at the Temple on Coruscant.

Yoda looked over at Ashanti, noting her withdrawal. Ashanti, normally buoyant and happy-go-lucky with a flair for mayhem, was rarely withdrawn or depressed. This loss had hit her hard, he thought to himself. With a frailty he had not felt before, the wizened master sidled next to the sprite-like Jedi master. Her tail, longer than her body and adorned on the end with three lightly poisoned spikes, snaked from it’s concealment beneath her cloak and wound its way around Yoda’s body, as if seeking comfort.

“Great loss this is, Ashanti,” Yoda sympathized in a low tone. He had trained this knight as his padawan and knew her better than he sometimes thought she knew herself.

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

Yoda sighed at the sound of moroseness in the voice normally animated. “He is one with the Force now. With you he will always be, you know.”

“I know.” The tail disappeared beneath the robe again, after squeezing once in affection.

Yoda looked across at Plo Koth and Fleph Kewic as they spoke in equally low tones. “Many will miss him too. Important to many people he was.”

“How am I going to live without him?” asked Ashanti, her voice catching on the word ‘live’.

Yoda shrugged. “Same way you did before him.”

“I didn’t live until him, Master Yoda, not after Drad’s death.” Ashanti’s voice grew firm. “And you know it. One little boy healed me and now that little boy is gone. Who will heal that wound?”

“The person who should have healed the first wound, Ashanti,” Yoda informed her as he slowly walked away, “yourself.”

Ashanti watched her master walk away and then looked over at Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was looking at her as well. Touching boy’s shoulder, Obi-Wan strode toward her, skirting the funeral pyre and avoiding running into Fleph with great care. The small teddy-bear alien master eyed Obi-Wan as the youth walked by. The small boy followed Obi-Wan obediently, but very self-conscious.

“Hello, Master Ashanti.” Obi-Wan bowed to her in greeting. “We did not have a chance to speak before the funeral.”

“No,” she murmured, “we did not.”

Obi-Wan stood aside and motioned the boy forward. “This is Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One. Qui-Gon found him on Tattooine.”

Ashanti felt the Force flow as a huge tide through the boy. “Yes, he is special, but that he is the Chosen One remains to be seen.” She pulled the hood back to reveal her face. Anakin’s eyes widened at her elf-like features. Her green-blue eyes blinked owlishly at him in the fading firelight and sunlight. “No disrespect to you, Anakin, but I have never been a believer in prophecies.”

Anakin managed to shrug noncommittally. “I’m not offended, Master Ashanti. I’m not sure I want to be the Chosen One. I just want to be a Jedi!” He smiled a crooked smile, his excitement overcoming his sadness momentarily.

Ashanti smiled at the boy’s enthusiasm. “A great aspiration, Anakin,” she told him and then turned to Obi-Wan. “You will cite the events of Qui-Gon’s death to me, Obi-Wan,” she instructed the other human, using the formal tone of her people.

He sighed. “Ashanti, I can’t. Not right now. It hurts too much.”

Ashanti’s eyes narrowed. “It hurts you?” she snapped. “He was my son, my first padawan! How do you think I feel?”

Obi-Wan’s shoulders drooped. “I failed him. We were supposed to work side by side, but he wound up against the Sith alone. He tired and grew sluggish. I was unable to get through the laser wall to help him. Then he was gone. The Sith ran his staff saber through his middle. I will always see him fall everytime I close my eyes.” Obi-Wan choked on his words. “I failed him.”

Ashanti leaped from her perch, stretching muscles designed for climbing and leaping through trees of a giant forest. Without a backward glance, she left the round room. The remaining Jedi in the room heard her final words. “I promised him he would die from old age or he would not die at all. I am the one who failed him, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The blame is solely on my shoulders. I failed him and a promise I made.”

Fleph Kewic was at Obi-Wan’s side. Obi-Wan liked the little fluffy alien master. Qui-Gon and he had met with Fleph on many an occasion at the Temple between missions. Fleph’s bouncy walk and fluttery disposition made many people smile. His padawans had been equally so.

With a comforting pat on Obi-Wan’s arm, Fleph said, “It will take Ashanti much time to get over Qui-Gon’s loss. Her and Gemma both, actually. He was very important to them.” Obi-Wan nodded. “Wilse Kosyr wanted to be here, but the negotiations at Indrono VI kept him away.”

“What did Master Ashanti mean when she said the blame was hers, Master Fleph?” Obi-Wan turned on the small master.

Clea Tari walked up, her pale eyes gleaming in the waning light. “Qui-Gon never told you?” she asked in surprise. “How odd.”

“Told me what?’ Obi-Wan pressed. Clea had been Qui-Gon’s first apprentice and though this was only his second meeting with the knight, he had spoken with her many time when she and Qui-Gon communicated.

Clea absently ruffled Anakin’s head as she began to tell the story of Ashanti Vende, Qui-Gon Jinn, Marteene the Hutt and Ishati Jinn.

* * *

Ashanti stood on the steps watching the parade make it’s way toward them. The Gungans, clumsy looking creatures more at home in the swamps and underwater than on dry land, made their way to the young queen, Amidala, barely a woman but already possessed of great wisdom and courage. Ashanti admired these people. Of course, she always rooted for the underdog.

She got that from Qui-Gon.

She sighed. The Jinn family of Plumera had yet to be contacted on the loss of their family head, which was her responsibility. As proxy speaker for Qui-Gon Jinn upon his death it was her duty to inform the family that the last of the males were gone. The Dome of Jinn would be dissolved, for Ishati Jinn was barred from ruling his family. No other male that Ashanti knew of had been born to the family following the tragic early death of Mai-Lin Jinn and her infant son.

A glowing globe was placed into the hands of the Gungans leader, Boss Nass, who was on the shady side of being Hutt-sized overweight. He lifted it to the combined cheers of the Naboo and Gungan peoples. Peace reigned once again, it seemed, and the Jedi knight who lost his life to bring this peace seemed momentarily forgotten.

Which was acceptable.

Barely.

Ashanti turned on a boot-shod heel and left the proceedings, going around the back edge of the assembled dignitaries. She caught sight of Obi-Wan standing proudly, with little Anakin at his side trying to mimic his hero’s stance. They were a pair. Qui-Gon would have been pleased.

Of course, if Qui-Gon had lived, Anakin would have been mimicking Qui-Gon’s stance, not Obi-Wan’s. She growled to herself. This was getting annoying, this constant play-by-play in her mind.

Yoda’s head turned when she skulked behind him. _Going somewhere you are, Ashanti?_ Her former master’s words reverberated in her mind through the link forged when she had been his apprentice.

_Yes_, she informed him peevishly. _I have things to accomplish._

Yoda made no further comment but she could feel the disapproval through her bond with him. He would deal with it, she supposed, he always had. The Force was showing her to some other place she needed to be and she was going there now.

* * *

The first laser wall opened up, followed by the second and so on. With trepidation, Ashanti stepped forward, able to feel the previous footsteps of Qui-Gon, the late arriving Obi-Wan and their formidable enemy. Her Qui-Gon’s energy had started to flag, she could tell. Yet his determination had been strong. He had to defeat this enemy somehow. Stall for time so Obi-Wan could get there. Together they could defeat the Sith lord.

Ashanti’s heart plummeted as she walked quickly down the corridor and the walls began to activate and she cleared one as the beams connected into a solid wall of burning energy. With her senses stretched out to pick up feelings.

She smiled briefly. ‘A little hero worship going on there,’ she thought to herself. Obi-Wan had been determined to fight by his master’s side against the Sith, to prove himself worthy. A padawan always fought at his or her master’s side, no matter the odds.

The laser wall opened again and she walked down the corridor. She froze in place, stunned by the hate of the Sith lord where he had stood waiting for the opportunity to attack his meditating opponent. There was so much hate there. Ashanti actually felt ill. She stumbled back and almost hit the laser wall behind her. Her tail brushed it, sending a sizzling jolt down the length of her tail to travel up her spine, breaking her hurtfully from her stunned shock.

Ashanti shook her head, trying to clear it. What had Qui-Gon done to have such hate directed solely to him? Or was it just the Jedi in general, and Qui-Gon the representing focus? The hate focused at Obi-Wan had not been as strong as the hate once directed at Qui-Gon.

She had never paid much mind to the tales and prophecies surrounding the Sith and the Chosen One who would bring balance to the Force. She had enough worries on her own without adding legends and tales to make things worse.

Prophecies and legends had been Qui-Gon’s hobby, not hers.

Now she wished she had paid more attention to his enthusiastic ramblings concerning the Jedi prophecies.

The final laser wall opened, allowing her entrance into the main, circular chamber that Obi-Wan told her had been the final battle scene between Jedi and Sith. Ashanti swallowed. She could feel nothing from Qui-Gon; it was as if he had never been there. His ‘pyschic’ Force trail ended with the laser walls. All she could feel was the Sith’s intense anger and hate. All she could feel was Obi-Wan despairing and angered rage, his determination to kill the Sith and his disbelief at the death of his master. She hung her head.

For a few brief moments Obi-Wan had walked the edge of the abyss. He went in a learner, a student, but he came out a knight, a warrior, a Jedi.

{But he came back} Ashanti’s head bounced up. Before her stood Qui-Gon Jinn, smiling that endearing smile of his that had captured her heart since the day she met him a mere few weeks after his brith. Age had not diminished it. {Surprised to see me?} he asked casually, dark blue eyes twinkling a familiar twinkle.

“Well, you are supposed to be dead,” Ashanti pointed out irritably. She walked past the glowing form of Qui-Gon’s Force spirit to a spot to the right of a deep energy pit. She stopped, closing her eyes in grief.

{I was exhausted, Ashanti,} Qui-Gon told her apologetically. {My guard dropped for not even a second when he bashed me in the jaw to stun me. The next thing I knew, he rammed his staff into my midsection and Obi-Wan was screaming.} Qui-Gon glanced down to where his solid form had died. {Obi-Wan didn’t take my death well, did he?}

“I can’t say I’m all that thrilled with it myself,” Ashanti retorted, sniffing back tears with a bravado she didn’t feel. “You let a Sith get the drop on you? Prophecies, Qui-Gon, I taught you better than that!”

He shrugged, a rather ridiculous gesture for a glowing, ethereal figure. {He was quite formidable and I wasn’t in my uppermost form anymore. Couldn’t be helped.}

“You could have waited for Obi-Wan to catch up. That’s what you have a padawan for, dummy, to protect the body parts you can’t.”

{I’ll keep that in mind next lifetime.}

Ashanti snorted. “Now how can I ensure that you’ll die of old age in a bed if you go and get yourself run through without so much as a by-your-leave?” she shouted at him, incensed at herself for her failure to protect him, ludicrous though the idea was.

{How much of that anger is at me and how much of it is at yourself?} he asked, shoving his hands in the sleeves of his robe, looking more like a glowing monk than a dead Jedi warrior.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sniffled forlornly. It was a half-hearted lie and they both knew it.

He sighed. Ashanti was momentarily distracted. He could sigh? {Ashanti, you’ve taken the responsibility over me a little too seriously sometimes. It’s been irritating before but now…well, I’m dead. Not much you can do about it.}

She arched an eyebrow at him. “That wasn’t what you were going to say, whelp. Now…now what?”

{Now it’s just pathetic.} Qui-Gon inwardly smiled at the reaction he’d hoped to get.

The highly temperamental Ashanti Vende exploded. “PATHETIC!” she shrieked. “I’m not the one who let a Sith croak me off!”

He frowned. {That was a low blow.}

Ashanti’s tail lashed angrily in wide arcs. “Maybe, but it’s true.”

Qui-Gon closed his eyes in frustrated irritation. She was going to be even more difficult about this than he thought. {You have to let me go, Ashanti,} he told her. {With you moaning over your supposed failure, well, it’s distracting.}

She glared at him. “Distracting to whom? You or me?”

{Both.}

“What?! What have you got to be distracted over, Mr. I’m Taking a Vacation Now? There you are, floating along, soaking up age old wisdom from masters even older than Yoda! Afraid you might miss something during eternity?”

{A Jedi’s work is never done,} grinned Qui-Gon, {The masters of the Force think I’ll do well in their ranks. It’s a fresh blood, fresh ideas mindset.}

Ashanti looked horrified. “There’s a Council of Masters there too!” Qui-Gon nodded. “I can’t escape them! I thought that after I died, I’d get a vacation or something!” Qui-Gon shook his head, grinning again. “Wipe that grin off your face. I’m still your elder and you’ll show me respect!” Ashanti ranted, distracted momentarily by the news of more authoritative figures on “the other side”.

{Yes, my master.} Qui-Gon intoned with the proper respect.

Ashanti knew it was an act, designed to pacify her. “Now where were we?” She pondered a moment while Qui-Gon waited patiently. He had all the time in the world after all. “You got me off track!” she accused.

{No, you got yourself off track because the subject we were on was about you.} Qui-Gon corrected her gently.

“No it was you being a dunce, getting yourself knocked off.”

Qui-Gon winced. {Could we show a little more dignity in my death please? ‘Allowed to have the drop gotten on’ and ‘knocked off’ just aren’t very appropriate.}

“Oh, Mr. Politically Correct over here.”

{Ashanti.} Qui-Gon drew her name out in warning. {I’m gone. One with the Force. Deal with it.}

“I don’t want to deal with it, damn it!” she shouted at him, tears forming in her eyes again. She rounded the other side of the pit and peered down it. Somewhere in the pit’s depths was the two piece body of the Sith lord. How she longed to slice him into bits and feed him to a Tenaygan thunder drac.

{That’s a disgusting thought.} Qui-Gon peered down the hole as well. {I’m glad Obi-Wan managed to get out of there.}

“He was in there?” Ashanti glanced at him in surprise. “He said he came through the fire wall and killed the Sith lord after an intense battle.”

{He seems to have neglected to tell you that the Sith Force pushed him over the edge and he hung on by the latch protrusion over there, didn't he?} Qui-Gon pointed to the small limb sticking out from the side of the pit’s slick wall. {His lightsaber is down there too.}

“That’s why he has your lightsaber,” Ashanti said in comprehension. “The little sneak didn’t tell me the whole story.”

{He knew you’d go into overprotection mode on him too.} Qui-Gon sounded approving of Obi-Wan’s deliberate omission of the facts.

“What is this, gang up on Ashanti week?” she muttered.

{You would think you’d get the hint.} Qui-Gon stepped back when Ashanti’s tail swung at him. The action was more from habit than any fear she could hurt him, which she couldn’t. He didn’t move fast enough and the tail passed harmlessly through his ethereal form.

Ashanti stood motionless for a long pause, as if unable to register what she had just seen happen. Their conversation had been so typical in it’s banter that she could have believed he wasn’t dead, but standing there alive, badgering her as always.

“You’re dead.” She said the words matter-of-factly, as if the information was finally sinking in.

{I prefer one with the Force.} Qui-Gon stood motionless too, waiting for her next move. {As Master Drad told me when I arrived in the Force, masters don’t die, they just irritate in noncorporeal form.}

Ashanti’s eyes closed. “You’ve met Drad already?” she whispered.

{He looked me up. Greeted me actually.}

“He is well?”

{Uh, well, yes, you could say that.}

“He’s not angry with me?” Ashanti looked fearful of the answer.

Qui-Gon was puzzled. {Why would he be angry?}

“At my failure to help him.” Ashanti looked crestfallen. Her two loves, one a lover, the other a son, both lost because of her inability to protect them.

Qui-Gon sighed, wanting desperately to strangle her. Her insecurity over the protection issue was exasperating. {Why should he blame you for something that had nothing to do with you?}

“We were partners on that mission. I was to watch his back and he was to watch mine. I failed.” Ashanti berated the glowing ghost, who was frowning more and more with each word spoken.

{You did all you could, Ashanti. All that could have been expected of you, and even then some! The same for me! What more do you need to have done?} Qui-Gon’s patience was growing thin and he was growling his words at her.

“TO HAVE BOTH OF YOU ALIVE WITH ME, WHERE I CAN LOVE YOU WITHOUT BEING BLINDED BY WEIRD LIGHTS AND THE INABILITY TO HUG YOU WHEN I NEED TOO!” she screamed, falling to her knees in uncontrollable sobbing.

Qui-Gon stood there frozen in surprise. It wasn’t failure she was afraid more than any other fear she harbored.

It was being alone.

Ashanti Vende, the woman who needed no one, was afraid of being alone.

Qui-Gon withdrew into himself while his master grieved. It seemed he didn’t know her as well as he had thought. Neither did Drad. Qui-Gon pondered this revelation as Ashanti got herself together and stood up. Did Master Yoda know of his former padawan’s intense fear?

{You aren’t alone, Ashanti.} he told her comfortingly, wishing he could hug the tiny woman for the comfort they both needed.

“Of course not. Not yet.” Ashanti sniffled, grabbing her tail and shaking it in frustration. “Yoda won’t live forever though. I have a bad feeling Ki-Adi will depart soon as well.” Ki-Adi-Mundi and Ashanti had both trained under Master Yoda and were close friends, almost like brother and sister. “Obi-Wan’s lifespan will end before mine, if someone doesn’t kick my bucket for me before then. The same goes for your first padawan, Clea.”

Qui-Gon closed his eyes at her choice of words. {Tactful. The point is taken.} He gave her a pleading look, begging her to understand. {We are never gone from you. The Force within you houses us and so us within you.}

“But I can’t ever get an opinion from you when I need it,” Ashanti pointed out reasonably.

{Have you ever tried asking?} Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at this obvious solution.

Ashanti looked taken aback. “Well, no, but I never got an opinion when I asked when you were alive either.”

{Good point, but I refuse to concede totally,} Qui-Gon grudgingly agreed. {I promise that if I am able, if you ask me for advice, you’ll get it.}

“Why do I have a feeling that half the time I won’t like the response I’ll get,” Ashanti asked him suspiciously.

{You didn’t clarify.} Qui-Gon smirked at her disgruntled expression. {Do you concede the match?}

Ashanti nodded. “For the time being, until I can prove you wrong.” Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. Ashanti gazed at him. “Knowing one is not alone is not the same as feeling one isn’t alone,” she confessed in a lost voice.

Qui-Gon bowed low to her, showing the respect in death that he had shown her life only when it suited both of them, or seemed appropriate. They had been too close to have been so formal as most masters and padawans normally were. She bowed back, still grieving but more happy about the whole ordeal for the most part.

“I’m going to miss sending you badgering messages about watching your back,” she told him.

{I suggest you send them Obi-Wan.} Qui-Gon chuckled. {He always pitied me your over-protectiveness. It will serve him right.}

Ashanti grinned. “Yes it will.” Her grin faded. “I love you, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Qui-Gon stood there a moment and then his glowing form dissipated. “May the Force be with you, Ashanti.” The words hung in the air.

“It will be, because you will always be with me,” Ashanti answered, her heart heavy at his leaving.

"I love you too, Ashanti Vende. Mother and Father bid you hello and thank you for all you did for me. It was more than they ever hoped for."

Ashanti left the chamber with renewed heart for the future, the words spoken outloud by Qui-Gon’s husky baritone ringing in her ears.

Qui-Gon, Drad, Ron-Seng and Ravia were her personal slice of the Force. And the Force was always with her.

She was a Jedi master, after all.

PEACE OVER ANGER.  
HONOR OVER HATE.  
STRENGTH OVER FEAR.

MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU.


End file.
